


Pink Lemonade

by lilithenaltum



Series: Lilithenaltum's Xmas Fic-a-palooza [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Bisexual Shuri, F/F, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Marvel Cameos, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, minor Wanda/Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 06:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: When Shuri answers the little ad in the paper looking for members to join an all female band, she finds her voice and discovers that falling in love is both sweet and scary. But with Natasha there to catch her, she finds she's looking forward to the fall. A story of friendship, music, and first love.Soundtrack/mix onSpotify.





	Pink Lemonade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rxinventlove (urwasted)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/urwasted/gifts).



> This fic is a first in a series of Christmas fic presents I wrote for various friends in my tumblr/shipping circle. This one is for Jasper, and I hope he enjoys it. <3

She almost missed the ad the first time she flipped through the paper, a little to the bottom and barely the size of a business card. But the second her eyes caught sight of the blunt, to the point wanted ad, she couldn’t quite shake the notion of following through.

Band Members Wanted

Call N. Romanov

555-667-8984

Girls ONLY

Her mother had been harassing her about making more friends and she had to admit she was almost mind numbingly lonely. There were only so many video chats and phone calls back home she could make, and it wasn’t quite the same. She missed her cousins, her friends, and her old life. But she was in the States now and so far, she’d spent the last month holed up in her apartment, watching reruns of the Golden Girls and eating way too many frozen TV dinners. Talking to herself had been a last resort but the more she thought about it, the more she could explain away the need to have whole conversations with no one else around. And that worried her because she was a hair’s breadth away from becoming one of _those_ women; the cagey, introverted cat ladies who reeked of desperation for human interaction and only ever came out once a week to hit the library or slip into the coffee shop for a bagel and a flat white.

 

God, that was awfully specific. She shook her head and traced her fingers over the lettering of the ad, thought once more of how she’d picked up violin as a kid and then promptly sat it back down because science was so much more interesting than music. Or, it had been at the time, she mused. Both were pretty far up there on her list of incredible things in this world and though she had never gotten back to trying to learn an instrument, she still carried a torch for musicianship and auditory creativity.

 

After a mental debate of the pros and cons of doing this, she decided to call.

 

“Hello?”

 

The voice on the other end was raspy, almost lazy, warm and all knowing, the kind of voice that Shuri had only heard in those indie flicks she’d watched on weekends. It made her feel odd inside, but it wasn’t a bad thing. It was just different. She was getting used to different, though it was a bit overwhelming.

 

Clearing her throat, she focused for a second on masking her accent as much as she possibly could without sounding ridiculous. She’d discovered that letting the full force of her Wakandan lilt come through could sometimes get her unwarranted results. It wasn’t something she really felt proud for having to do, but there were a lot of things she’d had to downplay or disguise to even feel like she belonged in most of her classes.

 

“I’m calling about the band ad.”

 

There was a rustling on the other line and then what sounded like water running and Shuri wondered if she’d called at the wrong time. She almost asked, but that raspy, deep voice was back again and once she felt her pulse jump a bit. _Bast, Udaku. Get a hold of yourself._

 

“Ah, yeah. Cool. Uh…what’s your position?”

 

“Um…position?”

 

“Yeah. What do you play? Bass, guitar, keyboard? I hadn’t thought of adding a keyboardist, but ya know, it might come up eventually. If you’re a multi instrumentalist, that’d be pretty dope too.”

 

Shuri pressed her lips together and tried not to panic at the idea of telling this person-a woman, she knew, because men didn’t usually sound like that on the phone (like warm cookies and sweet coffee and the tang of clove cigarette smoke)-that she couldn’t play anything. She could try learning, she figured, but it was much better to either just hang up-her first thought-or to tell her she was mostly interested in singing.

 

“I um…I’m not an instrumentalist-“

 

“Well, I don’t really need roadies or crew yet. I mean, we don’t have a band.” There was a laugh on the other end but it wasn’t unkind. It was just a laugh, amusement coming through in the rich, smokey octaves of her voice. Her. This had to be the N. Romanov that had put the ad in. Shuri thought up a few hundred N lettered names that could possibly go with a Russian last name like Romanov. That was Russian, wasn’t it? It damn near sounded like it.

 

“Oh, I know, I was just…maybe…I was thinking you might need a singer?”

 

She hated that it came out as a question, but it really was. It was entirely possible (and fairly certain) that N. Romanov already had a singer-probably herself-for her yet to be assembled band. But it couldn’t hurt to try and put her name in the pot.

 

“Oh shit…yeah, I don’t…fuck.” Another laugh, this one a bit self-deprecating, but no less beautiful. “Okay, sure. Come on in then for auditions. I’m having a few folks come by on Saturday for some meet and greets, get a feel of your aura and all that jazz. Hey, do you happen to know of any good audition spots by the way?”

 

“I…don’t,” she said, blinking stupidly at the woman’s rambling. “Not really. I’m sorry, I could maybe possibly look?”

 

“Oh hell, don’t do that. It’s fine. I’ll ask Sam. Sam knows everything. But look, when I find out, I’ll shoot you a text, okay? This is your cell, yeah?”

 

“Mmmhm.”

 

“Alright, well…I’ll uh…what’s your name?”

 

Shuri hesitated, wondering if she should say Sharon like she usually did at Starbucks or when she ordered packages to the lab. It was a lot easier to let people think her name was something else instead of hearing them butcher it a billion times, no matter how often she’d corrected them. The guys in her classes were notoriously bad about that, though she noticed that her professor had been pretty good about calling her Shuri with the appropriate inflections and even going so far as to learning to say hello to her in Xhosa. Then again Professor Cho was an exceptional woman and possibly a solid 50 percent of the reason Shuri hadn’t said “fuck it” and headed back to Wakanda and the safety and familiarity of her uni at home.

 

But something told her that the woman on the phone was different than what she was used to, so she sucked in a breath and decided to just tell her who she was. Who she _really_ was. And she dropped the faux American accent and let all the Wakanda in her come falling through. One of two things could happen; N. Romanov would snort, laugh, and mock the accent and Shuri would hang up the phone and forget all about some ragtag band, or, she could do nothing.

 

She did nothing. Well, not entirely. Shuri thought she could hear the woman smile over the line.

 

“Shuri…ya know, that’s really freakin’ pretty. What’s the origin?”

 

“Uh, Wakandan. It’s a little country in central west Africa-“

 

“Uh huh, I know about Wakanda. They say it’s a really pretty place, if a little bit mysterious. Something about getting visas into the place harder than hell.”

 

“Something like that.”

 

“Cool. Shuri. And yeah, don’t try covering that accent again, girl. It’s pretty. It’s you.”

 

Shuri could feel a blush creeping up her throat and she was thankful she was on the phone and not doing this in person. But then she wondered how she was going to survive meeting N. Romanov in the flesh if she sounded like that and talked like that and didn’t pick fun at her decidedly un-American name. Sometimes she hated how easy it was for her to develop crushes.

 

“Okay. So…Saturday?”

 

“Saturday. I’ll text you a place when I find it and…fuck. I just remembered something.”

 

Shuri sat up and shifted the phone against her cheek, the warm screen leaving a slight sheen of sweat there. “What’s that?” She wanted to hear this woman talk for the rest of the day honestly, and was pretty sure she could listen to her ramble about the price of gas if it meant she would stay on the line.

 

“I haven’t told you my name.” There was a scoff, self directed, and then another laugh, much like the first had been. “It’s Natasha. But you can call me Nat.”

* * *

 

  
Romanov- _Natasha_ , Shuri remembered, and then Nat, she thought right after, a little goofy smile on her face-text her Friday at 7:45 to let her know that she’d be hosting auditions at an abandoned warehouse and if she needed Uber money to just send her the Paypal info. Shuri thought that was awfully sweet of her to do but she declined. There were a lot of things she lacked here in America, but money was most definitely not one of them.

 

She left her apartment thirty minutes earlier than she needed to, careful to dress in something casual and comfortable but stylish. It’d taken her nearly three days to figure out what she was going to wear, and whether she should attempt to look the part or just be herself. And then she thought back to what Nat had said on the phone about her accent, about her name. She decided to go with something she’d wear if back home-a sleeveless red duster, black jumpsuit and chunky boots, her cowry choker on and her braids pulled up into a high pony. She looked cute and she looked like Shuri Udaku and not a girl trying to be someone else, not the way she’d been doing lately.

 

Her mother would be a little disappointed to know that she’d been wearing skinny jeans and Uggs to school just to fit in. And she hated that she even owned a pair of the ugly things. Granted, they were comfortable and she was on her feet in the chilly lab more often than not for at least a solid eight hours. But she missed bright colors and bold patterns. She missed looking like the girl she’d been only a few months before.

  


Well, maybe she’d have to remedy that, then.

  


Caught in her musing, she didn’t realize her Uber had already made it to the location until he stopped and turned back to tap on the head rest. “Uh, we’re here. Unless you got somewhere else to go.”

 

Shuri blinked, smiled, and shook her head. “No. No, this is fine. Thank you.”

 

He nodded and turned back around, fiddling with his radio as she gathered her bag and slid out the back seat. She closed the car door and took in the warehouse, an old building with faded lettering on the side, a name she couldn’t quite work out. She took in a breath and walked toward the large, looming building, trying to keep her nerves under control and her breathing even.

  


Shuri expected a long line of folks to show up for the audition, but there were only three others in the space when she got there. They milled around in a small circle, chatting cordially with slips of paper in their hands and every so often, Shuri caught a bit of a note, a riff, a little exercise and probably some showing off, too. She decided to walk over and introduce herself, smoothing her face into something pleasant and open.

  


“You guys here for the singing audition?”

  


One of the girls turned toward her and watched her for a moment. After taking a moment to size her up and deciding she didn’t quite like what she saw, she grimaced. Shuri felt something inside her heat up, a fury she had only felt when walking into Dr. Cho’s lab for the first time and was faced with six male grad students who had completely dismissed her as a person simply because she was female.

 

 _And black._ That had never been an issue in Wakanda, but it was here in America and she didn’t think she’d ever get used to it. Even Dr. Cho, who’d lived almost all her life here, hadn’t gotten used to it. “It never gets easier, but it does fuel a lot of spite.” Her mentor had grinned then and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as Shuri had held back tears of anger and frustration. “And Tony says at least a quarter of my success came from being spiteful as all hell.” That had made Shuri smile, at least a little. And it was something she held onto going forward. So she gathered that spite and her smile turned sharper, less friendly.

 

This was a competition, after all.

 

“Uh, yeah. I don’t think she’s auditioning for roadies just yet, though.”

 

There was a beat and then a snicker from the girl that stood beside her, tall and lanky and hovering like a praying mantis and that almost made Shuri giggle. She wasn’t attractive by any means, and her electric blue eyeshadow made her look the fool. She’d have looked so much better in navy, she thought, but she wouldn’t tell her that. Let her look stupid.

 

“Probably not. You need a band before you need roadies.” Shuri kept her smile prickly and walked through the small circle to sit on the old but comfortable couch. She pulled out her phone, crossed her legs, and completely ignored the three people to her left even as they stared her down as if she didn’t belong here. And they probably didn’t think she did.

 

Black women didn’t sing in rock bands, of course.

 

Minutes passed like this, just the four of them in the big open warehouse while they whispered and stared and she ignored them as if they were nothing. They weren't, not in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes she forgot that she was a princess by law and a genius by rights and that nobody ever needed to make her feel less than because she wasn’t. Sometimes, she had to remind herself and so she scrolled through on social media from back home, answered a few messages she’d been neglecting, and sent her brother a snap of her as she waited. _Gonna try out for a band, bro! Wish me luck._ T’Challa would get a kick out of that. He loved music almost as much as she did, and he always told her she should sing more.

 

Just as her snap went through, she heard footsteps behind her and the three cronies turned, eyes lighting up, their back straightening as if they were greeting the queen of England. She drew in a breath and neutralized her face once more, anxious to finally meet the enigmatic Nat Romanov. She’d prepared for this since she’d made the call about the ad, after putting her phone down and nearly geeking out about the fact that she was going to do something as out of left field as audition for a band. But when she turned around, she realized all her preparation had been for naught.

 

Natasha made her mouth run dry.

 

She was beautiful, that much was certain, tall and curvy with long dark hair, swaths of it dyed blonde in the front. She looked like something out of a rock music video, all leather and ripped jeans, red nails and burgundy lips. And her eyes-blue like the sky outside and deep enough to drown in-flickered from person to person as she gave them all a little bit of scrutinizing.

 

She felt her heart thump, her pulse hammer, her skin prickle the way it always did when she got a crush. _Fuck_. One look and a five minute phone call and she already had a crush. This was almost as bad as when she’d fallen for M’Baku a few years ago, before he found out and laughed in her face and insisted he didn’t need the affections of a child. She hoped this wouldn’t go the same way. She didn’t really want to relive that kind of humiliation again. Five years later and she had only just barely forgiven her brother’s friend for that.

 

And then Natasha- _Nat_ -opened her lush mouth and started to speak in that raspy, intoxicating voice that Shuri had revisited in her mind ever since the phone call and she forgot all about M’Baku being a jerk.

 

“Thanks for coming, you guys. So. I’m Nat, if you haven’t figured it out.” She clasped her hands and smiled. “I’m doing singing auditions today-only singing, so if you happened to have come for any other instrument, I’m gonna ask that you wait till next week.”

 

The three others looked between each other and then at Shuri but she kept her eyes on Nat. When nobody made a move to leave, she grinned and stepped back, motioning for them to come over.

 

“Alright! Cool, cool. So...let’s begin, okay? I just need one song. Introduce yourself, give me a short acapella version of whatever you wanna sing-I really don’t care what. And then have a seat.”

 

Praying Mantis decided to go first.

 

“Uh, yeah, so. Name’s Alexandra. I go by Lex. Sometimes Sexy Lexy, you know, cause...yeah.”

 

No one said anything though one of the other girls attempted a dry laugh. She shrugged her broad, thin shoulders and grinned anyway, though it seemed a bit deflated. Shuri couldn’t even feel bad about it.

 

“So I usually do show tunes or whatever. I’ve been kinda digging around in my vault and found an old love for post hardcore creep back in so...I’m gonna do some runs of my favorite Pierce the Veil song.” She cleared her throat, her smile slipping away as she closed her eyes, and then Lex started on her version of “Caraphernelia”.

 

It wasn’t terrible. The chick actually had a pretty decent voice. But she hadn’t been lying when she said she was mostly a show tunes singer, because the sound that came out her mouth was definitely more suited for a show on Broadway instead of in a band. Even so, Natasha allowed Lex to finish the first verse and the chorus, though it was a little awkward without someone in the back screaming. Shuri politely clapped along side the other two girls and Natasha, who offered Lex a smile and a bottle of water, then motioned for her to sit.

 

“Thank you, Lex! You’ve definitely got that soprano thing under control. Who’d like to go next?”

 

The redhead waved her hand and stepped up to where Lex had previously stood. There was no mike, just an old faded red rug and the couch and the bar stool that Nat sat on as she listened to the auditions. There was no real need for a mike, though, as the acoustics in the warehouse were pretty good on their own.

 

“I’m Beth. Um...I don’t do theater or whatever. I used to sing in church, though.” She shrugged and Shuri watched as Natasha raised a brow, though her mouth quirked up as if by habit. It was a little patronizing and Shuri had to bite back a laugh.

 

“Okay Beth. What are you gonna sing for us?”

 

“Is Tori Amos okay?”

 

“Tori is perfect, yes! Go for it.”

 

There was a long moment where Beth didn’t say a word, simply clenching her hands at her side, her eyes closed as she prepared to sing. And then she launched forth into “1000 Oceans” and it was...not good.

 

Shuri wasn’t sure what church the girl had sang in, but it had to have been full of tone deaf parishioners because Beth couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.

 

The song wasn’t over soon enough for Shuri, who dug her nails into her palms to keep her face from showing how she felt about the watery, shaky voice or the weird little ad libs. Natasha seemed to be showing the same kind of personal interest as she did while listening to Lex, though. It was admirable that she could pretend like she liked something when everyone except Beth probably could tell she didn’t.

 

And when the girl had quit her warbling, Natasha started to clap, prompting the others to do so as well, though it was much more lackluster than it had been the first time.

 

“Thank you Beth. That’s one of my favorites. I appreciate your music tastes.”

 

Beth smiled, crooked and naive, and Shuri actually did feel badly for her. She didn’t seem too terrible, just nervous and mousy, and when she sat back on the couch beside her, Shuri offered her a quick smile.

 

“Do you think I did okay?” She whispered to Shuri, who stalled for as long as she could without it seeming awkward, and gave her a quick nod.

 

“Oh yeah. Definitely.”

 

A lie. But white lies were sometimes better than the cold truth.

 

The last girl, the one with the nasty attitude and the harsh glare, stepped up next before Nat could even prompt her to. She tossed her dreads behind her-Shuri pressed her lips into a thin line and ignored that little flicker of irritation at _that_ -and tilted her head to the side as she introduced herself to Natasha.

 

“Name is Faruiza. Looking for a new band, old one broke up when the bassist and the violinist ran off together. I’d like to mention that bassist was my boyfriend and the violinist my cousin. My male cousin.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, her laugh a little bitter and mocking and it made Shuri feel really weird. “Real gay shit. Anyway, I’ve got about 10 years experience. Been singing since I was a kid, but been in bands since I was 14. I’ve been on tour before...one of my bands went on a few dates with X-Force three years ago, but Domino seemed a little threatened, so-”

 

  
“Faruiza.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I’ve got an appointment after this and we’ve still got one more singer, so…”

 

The girl shook her head and laughed shrilly, waving her hands around as if she was simply absent minded and not being a rude little jerk.

 

“So sorry! I forget sometimes when I’m talking. Alright. This is my little version of “When the Stars go Blue.” She cleared her throat, shifted her body a bit and then started right into it.

 

And Shuri’s heart dropped because bitch or not, Faruiza was good. _Really_ good. There was growl to her voice, a bite that Shuri knew would be good in a rock band. She took a perfectly serene alt country song and gave it a rocker twist with a little grit to that made the song less romantic and more sardonic, sarcastic. Shuri loved every note, even as she hated it and was tempted to just sneak out as Faruiza sang, to say forget it and join a chess club or something silly like that.

 

But when she moved about on the couch, she caught sight of Natasha’s face, who watched the audition with a neutral expression, not at all looking impressed and something prompted her to stay.

 

Faruiza ended her song to loud applause from both Beth and Lex who grinned and patted the girl on the back as she came back toward the couch. Shuri didn’t miss the nasty glance her way but she chose not to pay it any attention. She hadn’t given Faruiza any of her time earlier and wouldn’t now.

 

“That was beautiful. Thank you.” Natasha said it with the same polite, almost bored intonation as she had the other two, and scribbled down a few things on her notepad.

 

And then it was Shuri’s turn.

 

She glanced over at the three beside her, looked down at the faded rug, let her eyes wander around the warehouse-anything so she wouldn’t look at Natasha and lose all her nerve. She knew she would if she didn't get it together right then. She didn’t even have a song in her head to sing, except some from back home, but none of them would do as beautiful as they were. And she could feel every part of her panicking as Natasha finished her writing, then looked up, her eyes softening, her smile broadening.

 

God, she was gorgeous.

 

“Shuri, isn’t it?”

 

Shuri almost asked her how she knew that and realized that she had recognized her from her accent. “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you Nat.”

 

Natasha smiled even wider, her teeth white and perfect and beautiful. “Same! I was hoping you could make it. Do you need any water before you start? It’s a little dusty in here and you’ve been waiting a while.”

 

Shuri really didn’t need any but took the small bottle anyway and chugged it down like a parched camel. “Thanks. I uh-”

 

“Yeah, I do that. Forget to drink for a long while and get dehydrated and then I sound like an old goat and feel like a tumbleweed.” Nat’s laugh put her a little at ease and Shuri could feel her heart slowing enough that she didn’t feel like she’d pass out this time. “But anyway, enough about me. Go ahead and start when you’re ready.”

 

Shuri nodded, stepped back a bit and struggled for what to do with her hands without a microphone. She hadn’t ever sang professionally before, only here and there at parties her parents held for important delegates and tribes members. She’d sang at her brother’s engagement party most recently, about three weeks before leaving for the States, but she hadn’t done much else in between except the occasional shower concert or a few under the breath vocals while in the lab.

 

For a moment she wondered if she’d forgotten how to sing, until she remembered what her mother had told her about zoning out and ignoring everything but her voice and her heart and herself.

 

So she did.

 

She took a deep breath and started out slow and sweet, kept her voice relaxed and open, her chest level. She couldn’t help but sway a bit as she sang, the music playing silently in her head as she did. And though Natasha had said only a snippet of a song, no one stopped her when she kept singing, right through the entire song, which fortunately wasn’t very long anyway.

 

When she stopped, the last note ringing out sweetly across the broad warehouse, everyone remained silent. Shuri opened her eyes and swept them around quickly at her three competitors, then to Nat, who stared at her with wide eyes. And then those burgundy lips curled into a genuine smile and there was applause, reluctant from Faruiza, though Lex and Beth seemed much more interested.

 

“Where’d you learn to sing like that?”

 

“I uh...just kinda...I don’t know.”

 

“Back home?”

 

Shuri nodded. “I’ve never taken lessons or anything-”

 

There was a snort behind her and Shuri fought every urge she had to turn and glare at Faruiza. She was talking to Natasha so none of the others behind her even mattered.

 

“You’re a natural, then. Voice as pretty as a bird’s, girl. God, I loved that. What song is that? I feel like I’ve probably heard it but I’m not coming up with a name.”

 

“It’s...it’s a Best Coast song. “No One Like You”. It came up on my Spotify a few weeks ago and I’ve been kind of in love with the song ever since.”

 

Natasha nodded along enthusiastically. “I am too, now. Does she sound half as good as you do?”

 

Shuri laughed and shook her head. “No. I’m better, honestly.” And she was. Bethany Cosentino was a pretty good singer, especially for the genre, but Shuri’s voice was better. She could admit that.

 

“I like a girl with some confidence,” Nat said with a wink, and she stood, dusting off her pants as she did so. “Jeez, I’m gonna have to clean this whole place if we can use it for practices. I keep getting dust on my damn clothes.” She shook her head and then addressed the rest of the group, her voice shifting from warm and familiar back to polite and simply cordial.

 

“Alright, so, give me a few days and I’ll text you all and give you my decision. I’m not one of those people who picks a person and then just leave the others hangin’, so don’t worry about never knowing. And look, even if I don’t pick you for singer, I’ve still got several spots open for instruments, so if you play...come back and try again.”

* * *

 

With that, everyone was dismissed. Shuri went back to the couch to grab her bag and order an Uber, thinking of what exactly to do with a Friday off and no one to hang out with. A little part of her daydreamed of spending the day hanging out with Natasha, but she’d only met the woman. Crush or no, she didn’t want to be weird.

 

Of course, she didn’t know anything about Nat, nor did Shuri know just how weird she actually was.

 

“So. You kinda...stalled on me when I asked where you learned to sing.”

 

The others had already left the vicinity, heading out toward the large industrial doors of the warehouse together, chatting back and forth about their auditions. Shuri watched them for a moment, then turned back to Natasha and had to focus on what she was saying.

 

“I didn’t want them thinking anything of me.”

 

“I figured,” Nat said with a sly grin. “Make ‘em underestimate you. Which, I think you did a pretty decent job of.”

 

“They had the snottiest attitude when I walked in,” Shuri said, not intending to grumble about it but she couldn’t help it and Nat seemed sympathetic. “As if I didn’t belong here. I was waiting on the dread girl to tell me that help went around the back.”

 

Nat made a face and shook her head. “You know, that girl can sing. You can tell she’s had practice. But she’s such a fucking bitch about it. Like, she knows she’s good and she’s convinced she’s the cutest thing on the planet-”

 

“Not with that hair,” Shuri said haughtily and Nat laughed.

 

“You know, I should make it a rule. Unless you’re black, no fucking dreads. And those were nasty and matted, to be honest. White girls can’t dread. Trust me, I tried.”

 

When Shuri raised a brow, Nat had the nerve to blush. It was so pretty too, spreading from her chest all the way up to her immaculate cheekbones. “Yeah...I had a Rasta phase when I was in undergrad. And I didn’t know anything about cultural appropriation yet, either. But I’ve learned.”

 

Shuri nodded, and then stood in silence for a second before she decided to just ask about her odds.

 

“So do you-”

 

“You’ve got it, by the way,” Nat interrupted, though it wasn’t intentional because she apologized and then giggled. “I do that so much, shit. I’m sorry.”

 

“I...it’s fine. You mean, you’re not gonna...I don’t know. Think about it?”

 

“I don’t need to. Look. Beth can’t sing worth a shit, poor thing. She’s also as mousy as they come and probably should stick to crocheting cardigans for old people or something. And then Lex...Lex is...odd. Which is fine. I like odd folks. Hell, I _am_ odd.”

 

“You don’t seem odd,” Shuri said, and then, before she could think about it, “You seem cool.”

 

Natasha smiled sweetly. “Yeah? Well fuck, so do you, chick. Very cool. But Lex doesn’t have a rock band voice. That girl could kill it on the White Way. And one day I hope she does. Awkward as she is, but theater kids are.”

 

Shuri smothered a laugh and nodded along.

 

“And then Faruiza. Or, as you called her, ‘dread girl’.” Nat smirked and grabbed her keys, then motioned for Shuri to follow her. “Yeah, she didn’t stand a chance the second she opened her mouth.”

 

Shuri blinked. “I thought you said she had a good voice.”

 

“She does. She’s amazing. Her talent can’t be denied, but that little homophobic comment she made about her cousin and her boyfriend? Yeah, I can’t let that slide.”

 

“Oh...yeah, that makes sense.”

 

Nat pursed her lips and seemed to give something a thought.

 

“This isn’t generally something I’ve ever just...brought up upon meeting someone for the first time, but like I said. You’re cool. I feel like you’d be okay with it. And it’s just so you know. I mean, it’s me. I’m not gonna apologize for it. But if you have even a bit of a problem, I can’t let you sing for me.”

 

Shuri nodded.

 

“Okay. Well, I’m a lesbian. Gay as fuck and proud of it. I like girls. And...well, I don’t do homophobia, even if it’s not directed toward me.”

 

“I understand.”

 

Shuri wanted to say that she had hoped there would be a 'no homophobe' clause in this band thing. She didn’t want to have a crush on someone who had a problem with same love.

 

And there was the very real, brand new realization Shuri had over the last year that she really liked girls too. Oh, she liked boys. Hell, she loved boys. But girls...well, they were right up there now. Half and half, some days, or back and forth or whatever. Sometimes her favorite celeb crushes were women; other times they were men. It didn’t matter to her. But no one knew about that, not even her best friends back home and not her mother or brother. She wondered what her father would have thought, but Baba had been gone for two years now...so she would never know.

 

Wakanda was mostly progressive in every shape form and fashion, but she was still incredibly nervous about it. She didn’t want anyone thinking any different of her.

 

“Oh good. See, I knew you were the right choice! And then that voice of yours...fuck, man. Seriously, do you just open your mouth and that comes out?”

 

Shuri felt her skin warm. “Yeah? I’ve had a few lessons but nothing serious. I mean, I’m not a singer by trade or anything. I’m a scientist.”

 

Natasha’s whole face seemed to light up. “Oh you’re fuckin-seriously? A scientist? Like, professionally?!”

 

Shuri laughed and switched arms to hold her bag. They were nearly at the doors of the warehouse and Shuri still hadn’t ordered her uber. She glanced down at her phone and opened the app.

 

“Uh, well, I don’t have my Doctorate yet. At least not for here. I’ve a Masters back home. For whatever reason, it doesn’t transfer.” Which was a load of bullshit, because the curriculum back in Wakanda was far superior. She should know. She’d helped developed it-at 12.

 

But she didn’t want to scare anyone off by bragging about how smart she was so she toned it down a bit.

 

“Fuck, that’s still...dude. I’m so geeked. I’m a science nerd. Not nearly as much as my ex boyfriend was-”

 

“Huh?”

 

“In high school. Didn’t know I didn’t really like guys like that till I started college,” Nat said with a laugh. “He was so cool about it, too. Really supportive. Cool ass dude.” There was a moment where Natasha seemed to be dwelling on the past, lost in nostalgia and Shuri gave her that moment, turning her head and glancing down at her phone to see about ordering a car. For whatever reason, the price had hiked up within the hour and there seemed to be a thirty minute delay. Ugh.

 

“Hey.”

 

Shuri glanced up and Nat’s face, kind and sweet, was looking back at her. And once again, her heart thudded in her chest.

 

“If you need a ride home, I've got you. So long as you don’t mind riding shotgun in an old ass car.”

 

“I uh...wow, thanks. Yes, that’d be...I'd appreciate it.”

 

“Sweet! Let me lock up.”

 

Nat pulled down the huge doors with an ease that impressed Shuri and locked everything up swiftly, then heaved out a breath and winked.

 

“Easy peasy. All that time on the mat has paid off.” She started down the sidewalk and Shuri followed, her grasp on her bag a little too tight for the situation. It wasn’t like Nat was an axe murderer or anything. She didn’t think so, anyway.

 

But it was the idea that she’d be in the car alone with a woman that pretty and that cool that kind of made her so nervous.

 

_Get a grip, why don’t you?!_

 

“So look, this is an apology ahead of time. My car is a mess ‘cause I’ve been working doubles and trying to get this band thing off the ground. Please don’t hold that against me.”

 

Shuri opened her mouth to protest that she wouldn’t and then caught sight of the classic car Nat was walking up to. And then she couldn’t say much else except, “Wow.”

 

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Nat asked with a grin. “I rebuilt her myself. Sam helped, of course, but most of this was on me. I’m so proud of it.”

 

“Sam? As in your friend who found the warehouse.”

 

“Exactly it!” Nat opened the door to her Chevelle and then slid over in the leather seats to open the passenger side. “Get on in. Hey, if you’re not busy, you wanna go grab lunch? We can talk band shit. And maybe go bother Sam. I think it’s his lunch hour right now and that man needs to get away from his office for once in his life.”

 

Shuri grinned, any misgivings she’d had about catching a ride with Natasha fading as the car started, purring like a large cat. It was a really, really nice car, shiny black on the outside and sleek red on the inside, and there was a pair of dog tags hanging from the rear view. She wanted to lean forward and see who they belonged to-maybe her ex boyfriend she mentioned?-but didn’t wanna be nosy. And besides, she was curious about this Sam guy. What was he like?

 

“Lead the way, fearless leader,” Shuri said with a smile and she was rewarded with Natasha’s delicious, heady laugh, then the smooth push-pull of the car speeding down the street.


End file.
